


Good Things (come in threes)

by Falcon_Etti



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Feelings Realization, First Time, Opening Up, Sexual Content, Trip to Bespin (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcon_Etti/pseuds/Falcon_Etti
Summary: Han comes to the realization that he and Leia are a good thing and should be together. He just needs Leia to catch up and figure it out, too.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Good Things (come in threes)

**Author's Note:**

> This story technically follows As in Before All Others, though you can get by without reading AiBAO first. The only piece that might need clarification is 'fun and done', which is essentially casual, no commitment sex.

Their first time didn’t go exactly as he planned. 

It was good. There were no major mishaps, they both came, they were both happy enough they could relax together after, comfortable in their nakedness and intimacy. Han wasn’t planning on high romance or something like a softcore holo with a lot of mood lighting but did want to draw it out more.

They were sitting in the lounge, still at the games table after dinner when she finally kissed him. It wasn’t a complete surprise. They’d returned to their habit of tracing patterns on wrists and along jawlines and collarbones. When she rested a hand on his thigh, gently squeezing at times, and sliding further up, he knew. But he was a bit surprised at how quickly they went from kissing, to making out to very hot and very heavy. 

It seemed like only a few minutes (though maybe his estimates were off—he was a bit distracted) into it and she was straddling him, rocking against him. Deep, long kisses that included darting tongues and nipping at lips. There were groans and heavy breathing but no talking. Maybe they were talked out. Maybe they didn’t want to waste their breath. His shirt was open in no time, his hands beneath hers. They were hungry for each other, searching for more flesh. She bit his lower lip and, with her hand on his chest, tweaked one of his nipples. 

He actually gasped. She felt him squirm and harden. He looked at her, his chest rising and falling with his shallow breathing, and she returned a small and lustful smile. 

His arms went around her waist, hers around his neck and he stood up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the cabin. 

They moved quickly. Removing their own clothes, tearing at each other’s. He sat her on the edge of the bunk. She spread her legs and he knelt in front of her. He licked her, her knees over his shoulders, her hand on the back of his head keeping him in place, until she was wet and ready. 

He stood up, kissing her, sharing her taste. With one hand on her hip, he used the other to guide himself inside her. She raised her hips to meet him. Now with both hands holding her, he thrusted. She wrapped her legs around him, helping him keep pace, tightening and releasing. 

It didn’t take long. She called for him to go harder, he swore, called her ‘so wet’. And then they were done. They both crawled into the bunk and under the sheets, breathing returning to normal, bodies intertwined. 

“So,” he said. “That happened.” 

She laughed. “Considering it was years of foreplay, we didn’t do too badly.” 

Their second round was more on the mark. 

He was lying on his side, his head propped up on one arm, one leg wrapped over hers. She was lying on her back, her hair sprung free from braids spread out on the pillow. The back of one hand rested against his bare chest. He was lightly tracing patterns on her stomach, up her sternum, occasionally brushing one of her nipples. They talked about nothing terribly important but were lost in the sound each other’s voice and feel of bare skin. 

He participated in the conversation but, in between comments and questions, he leaned in to kiss along her neck, nibbling gently on her earlobe. He moved down her torso, licking and sucking a nipple, kissing her breasts, letting his tongue trail down her stomach and circle her hip bone. 

“Hey,” she nudged him with her leg. “What’s going on there?” 

“Keep talking. I’m listening.”

As his tongue moved along her inner thigh, she let out a light groan. 

“I fear you might have divided attention.” She looked down at him. 

“Mm-mm.” He slipped his tongue between her legs and she arched her back and groaned again. “Still listening. I swear.” 

He worked at a slower pace this time, searching out her pleasure points, noting what made her squirm. Using first one finger then two, his tongue, she was losing herself in the rhythm, following the waves as they hit her. She spread her legs wider and angled her hips to give him easier access. Her fingers were laced through his hair. His own arousal was growing as he brought her closer to her edge.

“Wait, wait!” She touched the top of his head, not pushing him away but needing him to stop. She took several deep breaths, trying to regulate her breathing. 

He stopped and looked up at her. Her head was leaning back into the pillow, her eyes shut. He had a flash of worry that he had pushed things too far, that she wasn’t ready for something more intimate, less frenzied. 

After a few deep breaths she sighed. “No, I was wrong. Keep going.” 

He chuckled and dropped his head back between her legs. 

It was a louder, more satisfied conclusion. She raised herself slightly, resting her weight on one elbow, and with one hand on the back of his head she pressed herself against his rhythm. She came with a chorus of deep groans and guttural grunts. 

He slid back up beside her, wiping his face quickly on the sheets before kissing her again. He pulled the blankets up and draped an arm over her torso while she tucked her head into the crook of this neck. She was sound asleep moments later and he soon followed. 

It had been a long day working on the Falcon, sussing each other out, and probably still recovering from their first day’s adventure escaping the base on Hoth and everything that followed. The hyperdrive was a lost cause and they’d resigned themselves to weeks of travel in sub-light to Bespin, but they still had hope for the sensors. Having functioning sensors and shields would mean a lot more peace of mind while not exactly hurtling through space. 

After their first kiss, he was worried he’d pushed things too far. She ran off and by most standards that should be considered a failure. Then she kissed him on the cheek and gave him a sort of compliment (and, yes, he realized it was a bit sad that he was encouraged by a sort of compliment). For the rest of the day, as they took inventory of food and supplies, made a plan for jobs and duties to fill their time, she stayed close to him. 

During their card game (that also included exhaustion and alcohol), they’d kissed again. A few times, actually. They held hands and brushed away strands of hair. He’d almost blurted out, ‘Fuck you’re beautiful’ and ‘I want to kiss’ you several times. He craved the connection, the touch of her soft skin. 

But he didn’t want to make the same mistake again, and he definitely didn’t want her to be uncomfortable during their long trip on a small ship. Though his instincts were usually right about these things, maybe he projected some of his feelings (which he admitted to himself, and Chewie was fond of reminding him, were considerable) and desires on to her.  
They were standing in the rear cargo hold on their second day, looking for parts to repair the sensors (and anything else that needed attention), when it finally hit him. He was handing her parts and she was tossing them into a crate. They weren’t talking about anything special, or in particular. It was all relaxed and easy and felt like second nature.  
In fact, it was so casual that he didn’t think before reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear and he noticed she let out a small gasp. Not something he heard so much as felt. As he pulled his hand back, he gently grazed her jawline. She didn’t look away. She didn’t blush. They simply looked at each other and he knew. 

They were in love. This was going to happen. They were going to be together and it was a good thing. A very good thing. There never has been and never will be a time when Han Solo could be described as giddy but he definitely felt elated in that moment. It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of excitement. Not the adrenaline rush that came from a life-or-death situation (like, let’s say, flying through an asteroid field) or realizing you have the perfect sabacc hand and the ship is yours. It was the feeling of knowing this is your person and you want whatever comes next. This was an all-in, bet it all, situation and there was no turning back. He just needed her to figure it out, too. 

Chewie knew something was different as soon as he saw Han walking down the corridor. 

[Did something happen?]

Han shrugged. “Why you ask?”

[You look different.]

“Different, how?”

[You don’t look pissed off.]

“Nice.” Han pointed to the pile of circuits Chewie was working on. “Pull the whole thing out. We can rebuild it in pieces with what we already pulled.” 

[That’s going to add a lot of time.]

“We got time. Think there’s too many fried parts. Even if we get it running, it won’t last.”

They got to work pulling off panels and disassembling parts of the sensor system. 

[Where’s the princess?]

“Still in the hold. She wanted to organize things.”

[Did you tell her you have a system? You know where everything is and she better not mess with it?]

Han gave him the side-eye. Didn’t Chewie realize no one likes hearing their cheap excuses thrown back at them? 

“She needs something to keep her busy. Sitting around doing nothing isn’t her style.” 

[I know. I’ve met the princess before.]

They pulled various pieces from the wall and threw them in an empty crate at their feet. “We’ll go through this stuff. See what’s still usable. Leia can add it to her list.” 

[Leia? You’re on a first name basis now?]

“What? I say her name.”

Chewie chuckled. [Okay, Flyboy. Whatever you say.]

Han bristled slightly at the ribbing but he also couldn’t muster much energy to argue or complain. He was still feeling chuffed by his earlier realization and decided there wasn’t much point denying it with Chewie since the Wookie figured this all out long before Han. 

He lowered his voice, did a quick shoulder check. “Nothing much’s happened but it’s looking good.” 

[Have you said anything to her?]

Han shook his head. “If I try convincing her, she’ll argue with me. It’s what we do.” 

[Tell her how you feel. Be honest.]

“Me talking just gets me in trouble.” He took his jacket off and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He crouched down to remove a lower panel. 

“I got a real good feeling about this. I had a… something… It all came to me in a flash while we were down there. Been a long time since I’ve been so sure about something.” He leaned over further and reached in, pulling out clumps of wires. “I know she’s mixed up about a lot of things, like me being who I am and the death mark and, well, maybe everything. But I got a plan now.” He untangled the wires and pulled out the ones he needed. “I’m gonna sit back and let her come to me.” 

[Your brilliant revelation is to just let things happen? You’re an idiot.] 

“Thanks for the support, pal!” He moved to the next panel and pulled it off. “Thought you were pushing for this?”

[Try being yourself and not playing some stupid game.]

“That’s what I’m doing!”

[You should act normal.]

“I am normal!” 

“Who’s normal?” 

They both jumped at the sound of her voice. She stood a few feet away with one hand on a hip and the other holding a datapad. 

“How long were you standing there?” He was pretty sure he wasn’t blushing because he didn’t blush. 

“Does it matter? Are you trying to hide something?” 

He stood up, trying to act natural. Normal. That’s what Chewie said. Act normal. “Just… You surprised me is all.” 

She smiled. It was a small smile but sweet and Han wondered again if he was blushing. 

“I’ve done all I can with the list,” she said while holding up the datapad. “You’ll need to tell me how you want them organized.” 

“Why don’t we do these first?” He pointed to the crate of wires, circuit boards and machine parts they’d just pulled from the wall. “We can reuse parts right now. Just have to figure out which ones.” 

He grabbed the parts and directed her back to the work bench, mumbling ‘shut it’ to the chuckling Wookie as he left. 

Han set up her on a stool with the crates of parts they’d pulled from the wall and cargo hold. He showed her how to take the pieces apart and identify a blown circuit. It wasn’t terribly exciting work but it kept her hands busy and required all that attention to detail she enjoyed so much. 

Now that they weren’t in constant danger, and they weren’t riding on adrenaline, Leia’s mind returned to the Rebel fleet. She worked through her worry out loud, wondering who made it to the rendezvous, how great were their losses. They would need medical supplies. She hoped they knew to check her files for a list of contacts. It was a steady stream of questions and comments that didn’t require a response. 

“I’m sure the kid got out,” he said. “He’s always got another trick up his sleeve.” 

The last she’d heard anything about Luke, his speeder was shot down on Hoth but he was alright. She’d heard his voice over the comms. 

“Luke’s okay. I can feel it.” 

Han gave her a quick look to see if she was covering something up, trying to be strong. She was focused on separating and organizing the pile of circuits and not their friend’s well-being. 

“You can feel it?” 

“It’s hard to explain. It’s not really a feeling or that I’m thinking it one way or the other.” She looked up at him. “It’s more like an understanding. I know Luke is alright.” 

After a beat or two Han said, “Sure. I get it.” 

She turned back to the circuits, letting out a small sigh. “I don’t think you do.” 

Han wasn’t sure what to think about the whole Luke situation. Back when they first met, he was sure Leia and the kid would end up together. They seemed to fit together so easily, without thinking about it. They were immediately comfortable with each, hugging, sitting close, walking with his arm draped over her shoulder. Han also noticed pretty quickly that there wasn’t much of a spark between them. At least not coming from Leia’s side.

Han claimed he stuck around for the money (even though he was more often paid in replacement parts for things destroyed while working with the Alliance) for such a long time, over so many missions and plans to leave that never panned out, that he didn’t realize how far he’d fallen until Chewie slapped him on the back of the head and said, [You love her. Do something about it.] 

He tried in his broken, mistrustful, never show weakness (and emotions, in his experience, were a weakness and the easiest target) way to tell her how he felt. But that usually ended with him going too far and Leia calling him a conceited idiot. 

Actions were better. He always tried to bring her something from a supply run, something she’d mentioned that she liked or missed. He’d usually toss it toward her and say, ‘Saw it and thought of you’ when, really, he was always thinking of her so everything reminded him. 

But it wasn’t just him. Han could see her looking at him. She sought him out, too. 

He gave Luke and Leia full access to the Falcon whenever it was docked on base but she was the only one who took advantage of the offer. He’d often find her in the lounge with her datapad, working silently, drinking tea. Han didn’t drink tea but there was always a full supply of ‘princess tea’ waiting for her. If they didn’t set each other off into a fight, they could sit and talk or sit in silence for hours. They had many quiet, intimate, charged moments of long conversations or close bodies and near kisses. Han could feel the spark between them, knew she felt it, too. She just refused to admit it. 

So, sure, it was a bit confusing when she said things like, “I can feel Luke with my mind.” And even if that kiss she laid on Luke in the med centre was real (or somewhat real) it wasn’t even close to what they’d shared in the past couple of days. By Han’s estimation, that counted for a lot. 

Leia put a hand on his. “Are you okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that today?” He scowled but didn’t move his hand away. 

“Seems so suspicious when you’re quiet.” 

“Just listening to you, Sweetheart.” 

She smiled, squeezed his hand and went back to work. 

“You’re not worried about this trip?” 

“Wanna get these sensors up and for nothing else to go wrong,” he said. “But our supplies and fuel are good and, you know…” He paused so she looked at him. “We have each other.” He followed up with a wink because he couldn’t resist. 

She smiled. He took a silent, deep breath to calm himself. He should kiss her right now but that wasn’t part of his plan. A plan he was this close to dissolving.

“Is it weird that the Falcon feels like home for me, too?” She watched him work. “It’s the only constant I’ve had since Alderaan.”

“Glad you like coming here.” He was concentrating on reattaching a circuit breaker. “Makes it feel more like home for me, too.” He turned the screw one too many times and the breaker snapped. “Fuck.” 

“What does?” 

He turned the circuit board over a few times, checking the damage. “Having you here.” He threw the board on the junk pile. 

He picked up the next piece and gave her a quick glance to see how she reacted. She was looking down again, apparently enthralled by her work. 

The whole Qi’ra thing really fucked him up. He felt certain then, too. He was a dumb punk kid but he really thought he and Qi’ra were forever. She was smart, beautiful and could kick ass. And she believed in him when everyone else thought he’d never be anything more than a good pickpocket. It took him a lot of years to realize they probably wouldn’t have lasted long in the real world but by that point the damage was done.

He convinced himself he was better off on his own. He had Chewie so he was never alone-alone and he was fine with that set-up. Other than that whole death mark business, he got around the galaxy all right. Sure, there were a lot of people out for him (in a non-death mark but still very pissed off way) but there were just as many on friendly terms. Maybe not friends, necessarily. More friend-ish. 

He never stayed somewhere too long, no attachments, no regrets. He liked his life. He’d never known a time when he wasn’t scrambling for money, shelter, food but it made all the difference that he had a ship, a loyal co-pilot and in-demand skills. He was set. 

This plan started to fizzle not long after the Death Star. The Princess and Luke didn’t hide the fact they wanted him around. The line was always that the Rebellion needed good help (which was very true—Han was kind of amazed they got as far as they did) and it felt good being needed. But it was also friendship. They were friends and he cared. He told himself he could handle it. Having Chewie as a friend worked out so why not give this a go for a bit. 

But his perfect set up started to feel a bit empty. Leia made him want more. 

It took most of the day but, finally, Han and Leia finished reassembling the workable bits and he and Chewie got to work putting the sensor back together. Leia helped where she could but mostly kept out of their way. They brought Threepio in (waking him up from his spot by the engineering station) to do a final check with the Falcon’s computer. 

Han tried to act otherwise but he was just as surprised as everyone else that their work around scheme was a success. They had one sensor back up and running, the deflector shields had juice and the computer wasn’t predicting certain doom. A victory. 

He threw his arm around Leia’s shoulder and pulled her in for a side hug while admiring their work. “Let’s figure out some dinner. We can regroup, get the repair and supply list going to see what’s next. She’ll be like a whole new ship when we’re done!” 

He kissed her temple. This was going against his master plan of non-seduction but it had been a good day so a bit of celebration was in order. 

During dinner, Han and Chewie settled on a (somewhat vague, maybe more of a wish list) schedule to keep them busy. Leia asked questions, of course. Wondered why they would fix one thing before another. In particular, didn’t it make sense to fix something like the air compressor first since they were in serious trouble if it failed. Han’s explanations only brought on more questions so he found some paper, pushed the remnants of the dinner to the side and started drawing the layout and inner workings of the Falcon. She moved in closer to get a better look. 

“Nothing is going to blow up right now. At least, don’t think so.” He smiled to himself. “Part of it is a chain of events, what needs to be working for the next thing to work. But we also gotta think about what can be fixed with what we’ve got on hand and fixed from the inside panels since outside is a bit difficult right now.” 

His diagram showed the parts and components running along the corridor to the engine room, connected by lines and arrows. 

[I’ve had this lesson before.] Chewie picked up what was left of dinner and left the lounge. 

“Guess not everyone is interested in schematics.” Leia watched as his drawing became more elaborate. 

“He knows this stuff by heart.” 

“I bet.” 

“Wait.” He looked up. “Is this boring for you?”

“I asked.” 

“But did you ask for this much information?” 

She smiled. Her eyes had a bit of a twinkle. “Is this all in your head?”

“Mostly.” He showed her the schedule mapped out on his drawing and how they’ll break it down, numbering each step. “You up for learning more repair work? You’re gonna run out of lists to make pretty soon.”

“I’m up for anything. To learn something new, I mean.” She gave herself a few moments before speaking again. “Can I ask you a non-repairs-related question?” 

“’Can I ask a question’ is never a good start to a question.” He gave her a half smile. “But sure.” 

“Why haven’t you kissed me today?”

He locked eyes with her. “Why haven’t you kissed me?”

“I don’t know.” 

“You should figure that out. Then we can talk.” He leaned back in his seat. 

“But you want to?” She didn’t turn away. She steadied herself to his challenge. 

“You fishing for a compliment, Princess?” 

“It’s a genuine question.” 

“And you already know the answer. I’m not exactly subtle.” 

After a beat or two she said, “I want to.” She picked up the paper, pretending she was suddenly interested again. 

C’mon, he thought. You can figure this out. 

“Maybe…” she slid the paper back toward him. “Maybe I’ll call it a night. There must be something to read around here. Or I could make more lists.” She gave him a half smile. 

This was going to be harder than he thought. He was already losing ground and they had barely started. 

“We could play cards. Make actual bets.”

She shook her head. She looked disappointed but he couldn’t tell if it was about him or her. She started to slide along the bench to leave the table. 

“Hang on!” He grabbed her hand. “You’re really leaving? You got nothing to say?” 

“Were you expecting something?” She moved quickly from disappointed to defensive. 

“Honestly? Yeah, I was.” His voice rose. He knew better but he was reacting a step or two before his brain. “What exactly do you think is going on here?” 

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Now, she was getting angry, too. 

“Are we back here now? After everything since we left Hoth, you’re back to acting like there’s nothing going on with us?” 

“By everything, do you mean almost being captured or killed many times over because your ship can’t get twenty clicks without something falling off?” 

“Hey! You’re sitting here bitching at me because of me and this ship.”

“I’m not showing enough gratitude? Is that the problem? Well, what are we doing out here? We should be in the bunk so I can show you just how grateful I am!” 

“Where the fuck did that come from? When have I ever said something like that? Also, yeah, you should be grateful. But, you know, a thank you is enough. Don’t need a pity fuck.” 

“How would that be a pity fuck? What does that even mean?” 

Chewie walked through the lounge. 

[Just tell her you love her. Neither of you are making sense.]

Leia whipped her head around to look at Chewie. 

“She understands you!” Han shouted. 

Without turning back around Chewie said, [Oh, well.]

Leia turned back to Han. Her voice was quiet but she looked right at him, which he took as a good sign. “Actually, I only caught part of it.” 

“Which part?” 

She didn’t reply and didn’t drop her gaze. 

“Leia, don’t freak out.” 

“I’m not going to freak out. I don’t freak out.” She looked like she was about to freak out. 

“Tell me what you need right now.” 

“What? I don’t… I don’t need anything.” She looked like she needed a stiff drink, a hiding place to disappear into. “I don’t want you to lie. Or say something because you think I want to hear it.” 

Han groaned, rubbed his face with his hands. “I can’t keep running at you. You gotta come to me.” 

He could see her thinking, there were practically thought bubbles above her head. But she also looked less skittish, more settled, closer to how she was during the day. Not back to where they were last night but he was feeling hopeful again. He was also starting to see Chewie’s point. 

“Hey.” He leaned toward her. “I don’t know what will help here. For you to see this is okay.” He held one of her hands, his thumb lightly massaging her wrist. “Better than okay.” 

She almost rolled her eyes. “Are trying to entice me with your better than okay sexual prowess?” 

He laughed. “No.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Better than okay ain’t even close, Sweetheart.” 

This time she did roll her eyes. But she also smiled. 

“I’m talking about… everything. You and me.” 

“There’s a you and me?”

He dropped a lop-sided grin and slid closer to her. Close enough that their thighs almost touched. “I got a good feeling about this.” 

She laughed, shaking her head slightly. “I’m not sure that’s reassuring. I’ve heard that a few times when things didn’t quite work out as planned.” 

“Maybe a few close calls but we’re still here.” His fingers moved lightly up and done her forearm. “I can’t convince you that this is a good thing. You believe it or you don’t. You’re willing to try or you’re not. Can only tell you that I’m certain. And I’ve got you covered if you need some time to figure it out.”

Leia lifted a hand to his face. She gently ran the back of her hand along his jawline and down his neck. “How are you so certain?”

“How or why?”

“Either one.”

“You’re my person. I’m yours. When you know, you know.”

She laughed slightly, almost a scoffing sound. She continued to move her hand along his neck, around his ears. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t know that. You can’t just decide you’re my person.”

“Hey, if you can ‘understand’ that Luke is okay, I can decide you’re my person.”

“It’s not really the same thing.”

“Look, it’s like I said, I can’t convince you. Not gonna push you into it.” Han put his arm around the back of Leia’s seat, letting his hand gently touch her upper arm. “Telling you I know it’s true.”

“This seems like an elaborate ruse to get me in bed.”

“I could have used your ‘fun and done’ line a long time ago.”

She was taking all the information in. Listening to him and processing. “But you don’t believe I know Luke is okay.”

“I believe you believe it. That’s good enough.”

“So, you’re not asking me to believe everything’s going to be okay. To trust that you believing it is enough.”

“Didn’t say everything was going to be okay. Said this is okay. This is good. No idea what happens next.”

“How is that different than a fun and done?”

“Because I want a next. If there is one, I want one.”

She shook her head, in disbelief, trying to clear the fog. “Where is all of this coming from?”

“Not new. Maybe knowing it for certain is new. Saying it out loud to you is new.” He took a deep breath as she laid a hand on his thigh. Her fingers lightly squeezing. “Look, I’m not good at this part. I’m really trying here. Trying to be honest. Trying not to piss you off.”

“What if I’m not as certain?” He ran his fingers through her hair, along her hair line, sweeping up loose strands, while she talked. “I want to try. But… Maybe I’m scared. I don’t know how to do this either.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

“You gotta have me to lose me.” 

She looked down at her hand still resting on his thigh. While she was thinking, she moved her hand up and down, letting her fingers graze along his inner thigh. He waited in silence. 

With her other hand on the back of his neck, Leia pulled him toward her. It was a slow, deep kiss. Open mouth, tongues moving in and out, flicking, taunting. He pulled her in tight. When they parted, she was happy to see the smile on his face. He looked happy, excited, maybe surprised. They kissed again and soon she was straddling his lap and things progressed quickly from there. 

Their third time was the charm. 

He wasn’t sure which one of them woke up first. It was early morning (according to the chrono still set for Hoth time) and they were lightly acknowledging each other’s presence with hands moving, naked bodies pressed close, intertwining limbs. 

He put his hand between her legs, letting the tip of a finger slide inside. He teased, fingertips grazing, gently, almost tickling, at her opening. She took a deep breath and he could feel her wetness. She spread her legs wider as he went in deeper, pressing against her clit, creating a rhythm. She arched her back and moved her hips forward. 

He kissed, stroked, caressed her body. He reacted to every groan, moan and shiver, and pulled increasingly louder, more desperate calls from her. She pulled him closer, licked the salty sweat from his neck, ran her finger through his hair, clutched at his chest. They explored each other, not holding back or questioning desire, as they pushed past any lingering inhibitions.

He brought her to her brink then pulled back. It was a tease (something they quickly figured out they both liked) but she learned to trust him with each rise then plateau, that he was coming back for more, that it would be more than then last time. He was focused on her pleasure, her needs. The longer this took, the more build up, the more she wanted him.

“Roll over.” His voice was a low rumble, almost a whisper. 

Han behind her, his hand reaching around and between her legs. Her back was arched and hips pressing against his. They were in sync, moving and pushing against each other. Her moans were getting louder still. She stretched her arm behind to grab him and pull him in. She called his name, ready to beg now. 

His fingers went deeper inside her. He pressed harder against her clit. He whispered in her ear, urging her to let go, let him take control. Let go, Leia. 

She lifted her leg so he could push his cock inside her. As he held her hips in place and nipped at her earlobe, he pumped, faster and harder, feeling her tighten around him. She called out, not quite a scream but loud and desperate. She needed him, needed to come, needed it now. 

The sounds she made as she came, deep primal groans mixed with what he assumed were her attempts to say his name and swear and beg, pushed him past his point of no return. He was chanting, fuck, fuck, Leia, moments later. 

Their faces were red, bodies shivered slightly, both flush with exertion. They both needed to catch their breath. She rolled over on her back and he kissed her and she started laughing. 

“You feel okay?” 

“That was…” She paused. “Very, very… good.” 

He laughed. “Couldn’t think of the word?”

“I was going to say something, you know, clever. But I think this is a time when being direct is best.” She smiled at him, hand on his cheek, trying to take in all of this moment, this room, him. “That was very good. We need more of that. That’s the goal I’m setting for us.” 

“Should I write it on the list?” 

“Yes, start a list.” She kissed him, slowly, softly. 

“Had one going for a while.” He nestled his head beside hers on the pillow. “I’ll just keep adding to it.” 

When they woke up next, it was officially morning. Han was on his back; she was curled on her side with her head on his chest. Her arm was draped over his stomach and he was holding her hand. 

What woke them, though, was Chewie and Threepio arguing from somewhere outside the cabin. The Wookie was getting louder and, clearly, angrier. 

“Fuck,” Han growled, slowly waking up. Chewie howled again and Han called back. “Hang on!” 

He got out of bed, pulled on his pants and found a shirt. He was about to palm the door when he turned back. 

He leaned over the bed. “Morning.” He kissed her, stroking her cheek. 

She smiled back at him, her eyelids heavy. She pulled the sheets up higher, rolled to her side and tucked in for more sleep. 

Han was struck by a peculiar feeling. It was hard to recognize at first and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt it so thoroughly but couldn’t deny either. He was happy. 

He headed through the door, pulling his shirt on as he went.


End file.
